I met the Prime Minister today. Just saying. He casually walked out of church in front of me this morning with two other MPs.

When I arrived at church, there were two uniformed policemen hanging around outside. I thought to myself, ‘Man, they’re taking these parking rules seriously.’ Even when I saw a security agent complete with earpiece attached to a curly piece of wire, I just thought, ‘Mmm, that’s a bit strange.’

Only at the end of Mass when the priest spoke directly to Bill English did I realise why security was tight.

This got me thinking about things not always being what they seem or what we expect. Take the weather this week, for instance. On Thursday we were told there would be occasional rain. It rained for 25 hours. What exactly does ‘occasional’ mean? Take occasional furniture. If something is an occasional table, what is it the rest of the time?

Or my position at school. My expectation when agreeing to plug some gaps by taking two classes they could not staff, was that they would give me lots of other relief periods. Once again, things are not as expected. On a practical level, it is not always feasible to give me random lessons to take. So I find myself having to make decisions about how best to support myself while I write my novel.

At least one thing is what I expected. I am writing this sitting in the 7pm sun at a beautiful winery, listening to some iconic NZ singers perform – Benny Tipene, Bic Runga and Brooke Fraser. We are only an hour in and already I have cried and laughed.
Why I cried: The amazing Benny was doing a meet n greet after his set. He came into the crowd to have his photo taken with two severely disabled, wheelchair-bound young adults. When he walked away, the joy on their faces was so beautiful.
Why I laughed: There is a dancing man who is providing some off-stage entertainment. He is in his own world and his random movements do not follow any beat, except perhaps one in his head. A young girl is trying to get past him, but his movements are so unpredictable that she keeps stopping and taking a step backwards. Watching him out of the corner of her eye she has finally managed to scurry past. He reminds me of a silly clip I watched on facebook this week – about learning to dance like a white man.

The sky is blue, people are smiling, my eardrums are being pounded (serves me right for being one of the first through the gate!) All other thoughts fade into the background. There is just now. And it’s wonderful.